The Bruce Peninsula Part VII: Majestic Flowerpot Island

 *Part I* *Part II* *Part III* *Part IV* *Part V* *Part VI* *Part VII*

The time has finally come to bring my whirlwind tour of the fabulous Bruce peninsula to a close. It's nearly two years in the making and long over due for completion but better late than never. I have a handful of friends heading up to the Bruce over the next few weeks and I'm green with envy of their trips. What I wouldn't do to sneak away and re-immerse myself in the spring perfection that is one of Ontario's best kept secrets. I'm of the opinion that I saved the best for last and hope you'll agree with that once you've dug into this final installment...

The large flowerpot on aptly named Flowerpot Island

Flowerpot Island. Easily one of the biggest draws for the Bruce peninsula and adjacent Fathom Five National Marine Park. It's a short ferry ride off the northern shores of the peninsula and within this rocky 500 acre crag of exposed limestone lives a plethora of incredible plants, including one very elusive orchid I'd chased for many years.

Flowerpot Island on the horizon with a smaller unnamed island in the foreground

The aqua jeweled waters of the Georgian Bay are dotted with an assortment of rocky islands of varying sizes and interests. Many are very small, uninhabited and seldom, if ever visited but still very aesthetic in their own rights. I'd love to explore these forgotten specks of bedrock and see what plants have managed to colonize and persist. Many of the island's rocks exhibit huge patches of a bright orange-yellow species of lichen that had to have taken centuries to accumulate.

Approaching Flowerpot Island through the morning mist and fog 

Our visit to Flowerpot Island coincided with a thick layering of morning fog and mist that made the island seem even more primordial and mysterious than it already is. The sheer rock cliffs and thick emerald vegetation gave me visions of Jurassic Park for one reason or another and I almost expected to hear the roar of a T-Rex from the depths of the island.

Sheer limestone cliff faces and bluffs of Flowerpot Island

Some of the white cedars (Thuja occidentalis) growing out of the limestone cliff faces on the surrounding islands have been studied and their ages taken by core samples. It's almost impossible to believe but some trees not even a foot in diameter have been determined to be over a millennia old! What tenacious and incredibly hardy organisms they are to have weathered countless bitter winters, horrendous storms, and hot, dry summers.

The famed flowerpots of Flowerpot Island

On the ferry's approach you'll pass right by the island's namesake flowerpots in all their geological glory. Here in this photo the larger of the two sits in the foreground with the smaller one nestled further back. A third flowerpot once occurred but tumbled down back in 1903. I'll dive deeper into these wonderful sea stacks further on in this post.

Bunchberry (Cornus candensis)

Once you dock on the island and exit the ferry you are immediately thrown into a botanical paradise unlike most any place you've been before. The lushness and biodiversity from the start is dizzying and you're left almost numb from a bombardment of pleasures on the senses. We spent as much time on the island as possible but even then time went by far too fast and I felt a bit rushed.

Two trails occur on the island: one is a one-way walk to a sensational wetland known as a marl bed; the other a loop trail that takes you around the eastern half of the island. Both are well worth every step and take you to some fascinating sites, both botanical and geological. However, there is one spot on the island that is ground most hallow and was an instant visit for myself once I set foot on solid ground.

Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa)

In the shaded haunts of one corner of Flowerpot Island's coniferous forests lives a mystical being that I had waited many years to make acquaintances with: the calypso (Calypso bulbosa). This ever more rare denizen of the northern woods is also known as fairy slipper and at first look doesn't appear to belong anywhere else but the equatorial jungle with its countless other bizarre orchid kin. I nearly melted when I first laid eyes on this incredible wildflower and could have spent my entire time on the island staring at its ineffable beauty.

Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa)

Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa)

There were about a dozen calypsos in picture perfect flower with maybe another dozen in their vegetative leaf-only phase. Much like the ram's head lady's slippers (Cypripedium arietinum), I knew this wildflower would be miniscule in size but I was still caught off guard by just how damn dainty they were. The entire flower was perhaps the size of the end of your thumb.

Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa)

I can't recall the last time I sat and intensely photographed a wildflower as much as I did the calypsos. I'd unsuccessfully hunted them for years and even visited this very spot during my first Bruce trip back in mid June 2011. Alas, that visit was too late and I found only leaves and brown husks that were once their otherworldly flowers. The etymology of Calypso's name, which hails from a nymph in Greek mythology, comes from the meaning "to conceal" or "to hide". This makes perfect sense considering this orchid's affinity for dark, secluded boreal forests. And despite its colorful appearance believe me when I say it's an apt hider.

Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa)

Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa)

After finding the calypsos in spectacular shape and finally marking such an anticipated "life" orchid off my list, I don't think my feet touched the ground the rest of the day. I merely floated about the island on wings of pure bliss and botanical joy that only something like this orchid could produce. But as memorable as the calypso is, Flowerpot Island has so many more wildflower treasures to share!

Gaywings (Polygala paucifolia) 

With every step down the island's trails more and more wildflowers appear from behind their emerald curtain. With no deer or other major herbivores on the island, the flora has a chance to largely grow unimpeded with some amazing results. Not only is the diversity of species eye-popping but the density at which many occur is, too. Huge swathes of gaywings (Polygala paucifolia) covered the ground in many spots, including all over the calypso site with the orchids often growing right out of the middle of it.

Dwarf Rattlesnake Plantain (Goodyera repens) 

Western Rattlesnake Plantain (Goodyera oblongifolia)

The calypso is hardly the only orchid to call this island home either. Well over a dozen species occur throughout the variable landscape and bring their own charm to the party. While not blooming until a month or so later, two species of rattlesnake plantain orchid's artistic basal rosettes could often be seen in the forest understory. The western or giant rattlesnake plantain (Goodyera oblongifolia) may be the blandest of North America's four Goodyera taxa but make up for it by being yet another odd example of a western disjunct that's right at home in this region of the Great Lakes. It's much more common in the Mountain West and PNW and skips the entire middle of the continent before showing up in a very local fashion here on the Bruce.

Naked Miterwort (Mitella nuda)

Delicate. That's the best word to describe the impossibly adorable flowers of the naked miterwort (Mitella nuda). Each flower appears like a snowflake with its deeply fringed sepals adorning the less impressive petals. Not far from this small colony of the naked miterwort was the two-leaved miterwort (M. diphylla), a species common in Ohio but a scarcity for my friend and botanical companion, Rob. It made me chuckle to have both species nigh on side-by-side with one miterwort common to me but rare to Rob and vice-versa.

Early Coral-root (Corallorhiza trifida)

Early Coral-root (Corallorhiza trifida)

Yet another orchid to grace us with its presence was the limey green stalks of early coralroot (Corallorhiza trifida). While a critically endangered species back home in Ohio, this early bloomer is quite common on the Bruce and occurred all over the more shaded, moist areas of Flowerpot Island. It almost has a ghostly glow to it in the damp, dark understory and makes it rather easy to pick out. 

Striped Coral-root (Corallorhiza striata)

Not to be upstaged by its orchid brethren was plenty of striped coral-root (C. striata) looking dapper in the drier, sunnier forested sections. The overnight soaking rain hadn't fully evaporated off its red and white flowers and gave it a jeweled appearance. While 'striped' is an accurate name for this particular myco-heterotroph, I much prefer the common name of peppermint stick orchid. 

Heart-leaved Twayblade (Neottia cordata)

Heart-leaved Twayblade (Neottia cordata)

The calypso can definitely take home the title for most gorgeous of orchids I saw, and despite being genuinely small it cannot also hold the belt for tiniest orchid. That honor goes to the absolutely, positively dainty heart-leaved twayblade (Neottia cordata). It's an easy one to miss if you don't get one shining in a beam of sunlight on the needle-strewn forest floor. Each flower is the size of a BB at best and requires a hand lens or a camera's macro lens to fully appreciate. I had a terrible time getting a good photo due to the deep shade calling for a slooow shutter speed combined with a slight breeze ever-so-slightly pushing the twayblade around. It was miraculously rediscovered in extreme NE Ohio a few years ago after being thought long lost and extirpated for nearly 80 years! I still need to get up to that site and get this tiny wonder on my Ohio list one of these days.

John exploring the mucky margins of the island's marl bed

Earlier in the post I mentioned a unique wetland on the island known as the marl bed. It's hard to miss when walking by as it appears as an extremely shallow, mucky pond of sorts but don't write it off too quickly! One can, and should spend plenty of time exploring its area for a wealth of quality plants. From orchids like the showy lady's slipper (Cypripedium reginae), which wouldn't bloom until later in June, to dozens of sedge species: the marl bed is a real treat.

Starry False Solomon's Seal (Maianthemum stellatum)

Along the not-as-wet margins of the marl bed was a dense colony of the ever-stunning starry false solomon's seal (Maianthemum stellatum) in full, spectacular bloom. It's by no stretch a rarity in Ohio and I see it frequently in the right spots but it's never one I'd ignore and not give some attention to with my camera.

Bird's-eye Primrose (Primula mistassinica)

Bird's-eye Primrose (Primula mistassinica)

Undoubtedly the marl bed's most exciting bloomer during our visit was scads of the bird's-eye primrose (Primula mistassinica) flowering throughout its mucky margins. It was a species I'd been too late for on my first Bruce trip and was elated to find looking so fine in its alkaline wetland home. 

The picturesque shorelines of Flowerpot Island

After spending plenty of time in the damp, dark, close quarter conditions of the island's interior it's blissful perfection to finally breakout onto the sun-drenched, boulder-strewn, limestone pavement shorelines. The water is as pristine an aqua blue as exists in the northern hemisphere and makes you think you'd found a wormhole to the Caribbean.

The unmistakable blue perfection of the Georgian Bay

Flowerpot Island is literally nothing more than a giant exposed crag of limestone bedrock and its shorelines show that splendidly. The huge bedrock pavement pieces almost immediately give way to deeper water right off the coast and make for a gorgeous transition of water colors from aqua to deep sapphire blue.

Wall-rue (Asplenium ruta-muraria)

Wall-rue (Asplenium ruta-muraria)

Don't let the scenery of the island's shorelines distract you from botanizing, though! There's plenty more to be had among the boulders and limestone cobble. Some careful searching of the larger moss and lichen covered rocks can reward the patient with patches of the very rare and disjunct wall-rue (Asplenium ruta-muraria). This fern is predominately an Appalachian species found from New England down to Alabama, but fascinatingly occurs hundreds of miles north of any other sites on the Bruce and nearby Manitoulin Island and the Straits of Mackinac area. I don't know what it is about the Bruce that makes it act like such a plant magnet for oddities like this but I freakin' love it!

The large flowerpot

As promised it's time to show off the most prominent feature of Flowerpot Island and its namesake: the flowerpots! These sea stacks were formed over the millennia by water, waves, ice and wind all hammering away at the cliffs along the island's shoreline. Softer rock layers slowly eroded and as the water levels waxed and waned post glaciation it finally left these two unique pillars that we see today. It's hard to believe that man had nothing to do with their formation and all it took was time and opportunity for nature and its power of erosion to do its thing.

Your blogger posing with the larger flowerpot

The smaller, but still awesome flowerpot

Judging just how big the larger of the two flowerpots is is a hard task without something for scale. So what better than your blogger to provide such a service! It's a lot bigger when you get up close to it and you kind of just have to stare in awe and wonder at the odds this thing beats to continue standing year and year, decade after decade. The smaller one is only a third the height but both contain some genuine bonsai white cedar trees that somehow, someway manage to survive growing out of nothing more than a crack in the limestone. I compared photos with extremely similar angles of both flowerpots from my 2011 and 2015 trips and could not notice any bit of growth from any of the cedars. They're seemingly frozen in time, at least from a human being's lifespan's viewpoint.

Slender Cliff Brake (Cryptogramma stelleri)

Another limestone-loving fern you might be lucky enough to see while on Flowerpot Island, and other select areas of the mainland peninsula is the slender cliff brake (Cryptogramma stelleri). It prefers cool, shaded, moist fissures and cracks in the bedrock and exhibits dimorphic fronds, or fronds that differ in their appearance based on whether they're fertile or sterile. The fertile fronds have a lacier, skinnier look to them, while the sterile ones have a more blunt, stubby shape.

Wild Columbine (Aquilegia canadensis)

The rocky shorelines and small flowerpot

The alvar-like shorelines are full of other fascinating plant life and a diversity of wildflowers for those that can peel their eyes away from the water and flowerpots. Species like wild columbine (Aquilegia canadensis), upland white goldenrod (Solidago ptarmicoides), bearberry (Arctostaphylops uva-ursi), northern bog violet (Viola nephrophylla), harebell (Campanula rotundifolia) and ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius) are but a handful of wildflowers that grow all over the place.

Flowerpot Island sitting in the jeweled waters of the Georgian Bay as you head back for the mainland

I've really only scratched the surface of Flowerpot Island but hope it was enough to show just how amazing a place it is. It's well worth a day of your time up there to head out and explore its forested depths, limestone bluffs, and incredible shorelines.

Well, all good times must come to an end and this long look back on my unforgettable spring 2015 trip back up to the Bruce has finally come full circle. I really hope you've enjoyed this detailed look at what all this gem of a location has to offer and it has inspired you to take a trip up there one of these years. Or maybe it has rekindled your love for it and caused a deep-rooted passion to return to its beauty once more. I really want to make a return trip later in the summer sometime and re-experience it all over again with different plants. The Bruce is one of eastern North America's most incredible of botanical, geological, bird-rich, and scenic of landscapes and I wish I could do her better justice than I have. The Bruce will always be near and dear to my heart for the rest of my days no matter how many times I return. Thanks so much for following along and I hope to see you back for more botanical adventures soon.

- ALG -

Top Ten Life Plants of 2015

It's hard to believe yet another year has come and gone. Spring and summer flew by in a blur your narrator can hardly comprehend, with autumn currently in its own hurry as well. Despite its rush, the 2015 field season was one to remember. There's never enough time to see and do everything on your list during a calendar year but then that's what makes each and every new experience you do have all the more memorable. For a botanist, or at least this botanist, one of the most rewarding tasks at the conclusion of the growing season is updating the life list. As time goes on and I become more and more acquainted with my local and regional flora, the frequencies of making new floral friends decreases. This makes each additional life species marked off the list feel just a bit more gratifying than the last. All the more reason to travel further outside one's botanical comfort zone, I say.

With our first frosts already in the past, I'd like to reminisce on my personal top ten favorite "lifers" from 2015's botanical forays. Just about all of them came outside Ohio's borders this year from places like Ontario, Wyoming or West Virginia. All ten plants were species I'd never had the pleasure of seeing in the flesh before; many only dreamily through a computer monitor or from the pages of my extensive botanical library. Some I specifically set out to see, others I came across by complete chance. Each one aroused emotions of excitement and disbelief, often erasing years of anxious desire. Many a tear of joy was shed while looking upon these featured wildflowers, which only served to reaffirm my passion and ambition for seeking out these often-times rare and magnificent wonders.

All that being said, let's begin the countdown of my favorite life plants from an unforgettable spring, summer and fall of botanizing throughout North America...

Rocky Mountain Fringed Gentian (Gentianopsis thermalis). Wyoming, Early August

Starting off the countdown at number ten is the Rocky Mountain fringed gentian (Gentianopsis thermalis). Its electric blue petals graced many wet alpine meadows, fen-like stream sides and groundwater seeps during my time out in the Wind River Range of western Wyoming this past August. I've seen two of its closely related and equally stunning brethren (G. crinita and G. virgata, respectively) back in Ohio, but the surrounding scenery for these delicate beauties put them on another level of spectacular.

Northern Comandra (Geocaulon lividum). Bruce Pen., Ontario, June.

Northern Comandra (Geocaulon lividum). Bruce Pen., Ontario, June.

The criteria for how a plant species ends up making this most esteemed of lists goes much deeper than physical beauty. If that was the lone requirement, I hesitate to think lifer number nine would have even sniffed the final cut. What northern comandra (Geocaulon lividum) may lack in showiness, it more than makes up for in rarity and uniqueness. It's only known to occur sparingly in less than a dozen states; all bordering Canada, where it's much more common. It grows in cold coniferous forests on stabilized dunes and on rare occasions in bogs/fens in the Great Lakes region. It's much more conspicuous in fruit when it trades its small green axillary flowers for a striking orange-red drupe. When I came across this while up on Ontario's Bruce peninsula back in June, I was ecstatic to finally makes its acquaintance. I instantly recognized its unusual appearance and giddily wrote its name down on the day's plant list. Even better was the lush carpet of moss and reindeer lichen it emerged from, often times side-by-side with ram's head lady's slippers (Cypripedium arietinum).

Linear-leaved Gentian (Gentiana linearis). Dolly Sods Wilderness, WV, October.

The linear-leaved gentian (Gentiana linearis) comes in at number eight on the countdown of 2015's best life plants. It was just a couple weekends ago during an autumn backpacking trip to West Virginia's Dolly Sods Wilderness that I finally got to see this procrastinator of a wildflower. The Sods plateau's boggy meadows and muskegs contained hundreds upon hundreds of these gentians but only a literal few still held corollas exhibiting their sky blue color. The pair photographed above were the best to be seen, glowing like sapphire beacons among a sea of browning vegetation and overcast skies.

Green Spleenwort (Asplenium trichomanes-ramosum). B.P., Ontario, June

Limestone Oak Fern (Gymnocarpium robertianum). B.P., Ontario, June

The decision making process in putting this list together can be as difficult as it is fun. And since I make the rules, I decided to call number seven a tie between two ferns that were growing literally only yards apart. The aforementioned Bruce peninsula in Ontario is a true botanical wonderland known the world around for its plethora of odd and disjunct ferns. The two celebrated spore-producers seen here are the green spleenwort (Asplenium trichomanes-ramosum) and limestone oak fern (Gymnocarpium robertianum). Both are well outside their normal, albeit already limited distributions on the Bruce's narrow spit of limestone. Their high-quality alvar habitat was full of other fascinating plant life but more on that in a future post.

Great Lakes Iris (Iris lacustris). Bruce Peninsula, Ontario, June

Moving onto life plant number six has us staying on the Bruce for one of the most dainty wildflowers I've yet seen. The Great Lakes iris (Iris lacustris) was one I missed during my initial visit to the region four years earlier and managed to catch still in flower upon my return this past June. This tiny iris' size is lost without scale in the photo but each blossom is the size of a silver dollar! They are a globally rare, federally threatened species endemic to northern Lake Michigan and Lake Huron's cobbled, sandy shorelines. These occurred just about everywhere the habitat was suitable along our section of Lake Huron, even blooming just outside the cabin's door.

Hart's Tongue Fern (Asplenium scolopendrium). Bruce Pen., Ontario, June

If it's not broke, don't fix it. I think that's a good line of advice and since the Bruce isn't broke, let's stick with it for life plant number five. As I mentioned earlier, the Bruce is widely known for its abundance of unusual fern taxa, with perhaps none as sought after as the hart's tongue fern (Asplenium scolopendrium). While somewhat common across the pond in Europe, it only occurs as a local anomaly in a handful of places in the entirety of North America (AL, TN, NY, nMI and Ontario). I made sure to visit the cool, moist, rocky terrain beneath gorgeous Inglin Falls outside Owen Sound for this phenomenal fern and was not disappointed. It was yet another missed lifer during my first stint up on the Bruce I was proud to check off.

Southern Monkshood (Aconitum uncinatum). Scioto Brush Creek, OH October

Ohio is only represented once on this year's list but what a plant it is! Number four was one of my most unexpected discoveries, as well as one of the most breathtaking. Southern monkshood (Aconitum uncinatum) is one of the state's most imperiled and endangered of wildflowers; growing only in a select few locations along Scioto Brush Creek, arguably Ohio's finest and most intact waterway. Southern monkshood typically blooms from late August into September, so I wasn't expecting much when I gave one of the known sites a hike through earlier this month. As luck would have it a single plant still bore a few blossoms in superb photogenic shape! A species of the southeastern US, this location marks one of only a handful of known sites north of the Ohio River. Long may it persist along this spectacular stretch of water.

Southern Small Yellow Lady's Slipper (Cypripedium parviflorum var. parviflorum).
Lewis Co., Kentucky, May.

Back in May, I posted on here an account of arguably the most serendipitous orchid find of my life thus far in the southern small yellow lady's slipper (Cypripedium parviflorum var. parviflorum). Myself and good friend and very knowledgeable botanist, Roger Beadles were poking around in northern Kentucky for the rare Kentucky lady's slipper (C. kentuckiense) when we stumbled across this small patch of 2015's life plant number three. It was a complete surprise and the last of eastern North America's lady's slipper orchids I needed to see. You can read all about that experience by following this link here. Later in the year, myself and some others came across an intriguing patch of pretty darn small lady's slipper plants on a preserve in Adams Co., Ohio. It was late August and the plants essentially vegetative only but they definitely sparked my interest and have earned a future visit this upcoming May. I have my hopes they could be the first documented occurrence of the southern small yellows on Ohio soil. Adding a new orchid to the state's flora is a dream bucket list item to be sure! Stay tuned...

Hooded Ladies'-tresses (Spiranthes romanzoffiana). Green River Lakes, WY, August

Speaking of orchids and bucket list items, it brings me a lot of pride and joy to have this next wildflower be number two on my countdown of 2015's best lifers. For those that know me personally and/or follow this blog with any regularity assuredly knows I'm obsessed with wild orchids. It's been a major life goal to see and photograph all 47 species indigenous to Ohio, and I've been sitting painfully close at 46 for over a year now. Not any more! The hooded ladies'-tresses (Spiranthes romanzoffiana) was the last to elude me and was a complete and utter surprise find while out in the mountains of western Wyoming this August. Dozens of them lined the banks of pristine rushing mountain streams and their adjacent meadows, glistening like a jewel in the bright sunlight. It's incredible to think I've now seen all 47 species, even if some haven't been within Ohio...yet. Just seeing them regardless of location has been special enough. More on these and this trip later!

Calypso (Calypso bulbosa). Bruce Peninsula, Ontario, June

If orchids won silver and bronze in this countdown they might as well make it a clean sweep with the gold as well. 2015's most exceptional and emotional life plant was none other than the elusive calypso or fairy slipper (Calypso bulbosa). If I returned to the Bruce to see any one thing, it was this reclusive orchid of the northern woods. I could barely contain my excitement on the hike back to its known location on Flowerpot Island with butterflies in my stomach. Was it still blooming? Would I even find it? What if I was too late like last time? I needn't worry as a dozen or so calypsos were in pristine flower under the dense shade of its coniferous haunt. I spent a long time sitting in front of them in silence and stillness, admiring their miniscule appearance packed with delicate detail and color. It was a moment nearly a decade in the making from the first time I saw this species in one of my first wildflower books. The calypsos were still wet from the previous night's rain, or maybe it was from the tears that fell from finally laying eyes on these most astonishing orchids. Much, much more on this trip and moment in future posts!

I hope you've enjoyed this look back onto my favorite finds and life plants of 2015. I'll be curious to hear from you, my readers if any of these are on your life lists or plants you've had the honor of coming into contact with before. If anything I hope I've warmed your spirits even a wee bit as the reality of another wildflower season come and gone sinks in. If 2016 is anything like my 2015, it will be full of fantastic finds, exciting discoveries and more memories made soaking in the natural world's beauty and diversity. As I mentioned earlier, many of these plants/moments have their own blog posts forth coming, so I hope you'll look forward to that as winter sets in and we all begin anew the dream of spring.

- ALG -